This art piece was doomed to be unfinished, untouched for months but still in the range of daily examination. The aha! direction found me as I drove over the mountains, pondering my child’s life. “He’s never going to be happy until he learns to dance on the rim of nothingness.” I thought. “No, it is I that needs to learn that dance.” I argued back.
I returned to the studio and cut a hole in this work. I worked quickly, finding materials oddly at hand. I hummed the hymn, “I’ll praise my maker while I’ve breath.” I thought about little Mary at the annunciation, her receptiveness to impossible news.
The dance on the rim of nothingness (or everything) is old. In Advent we wait. We prepare. And some of us dance. Join me.